


Thinking on the Farm

by twii2ted_8333335



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Boys Kissing, Crushes, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Kissing, M/M, Male Friendship, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3969215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twii2ted_8333335/pseuds/twii2ted_8333335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donut spent a lot of time thinking on the farm back in Iowa — and despite what he says after he leaves, he didn't do a lot to repress those thoughts. He would often daydream about where he wanted to go in life, what he wanted to be, while in reality he milked absently cows and goats.</p><p>There was one particularly vivid daydream he would have where he would make a friend out in the army life he'd intended for himself. </p><p>The funny thing was Donut had accepted that it was nothing more than simple farm boy wishes. He didn't expect to actually meet his friend out in Blood Gulch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thinking on the Farm

**Author's Note:**

> The fact that my bestie keeps giving me ideas isn't helping my renewed rvb phase to die down

Donut spent a lot of time thinking on the farm back in Iowa — and despite what he says after he leaves, he didn't do a lot to repress those thoughts. He would often daydream about where he wanted to go in life, what he wanted to be, while in reality he milked absently cows and goats. 

There was one particularly vivid daydream he would have where he would make a friend out in the army life he'd intended for himself. Of course he'd make plenty of friends, and, realistically, a few not friends, but this one was perfect for him. He'd laugh at the jokes Donut would make and add on to them until they were both laughing and out of hand. He'd smile when Donut did and would hold him when the homesickness got too much for him and he was just so _absolutely flawless_ in Donut's daydream. 

The funny thing was Donut had accepted that it was nothing more than simple farm boy wishes. He didn't expect to actually meet his friend out in Blood Gulch but he did. He found the friend that laughed at his double entendres and who he could with in return at every "bow chicka bow wow" or "that's what she said" uttered. He found the friend that smiled when Donut did and ruffled his in need of a trim blond hair when they felt comfortable enough to take their helmets off around each other, far from the eyes of their teammates. He found his friend in the blue team, the ones they should have been not friends with. 

He found his friend in Tucker. 

And when he finally felt like he was happy and content with this fulfilling of his daydream, new ones started. Ones where his friend would drape his arm across Donut's shoulder more times than just when Donut needed a little human contact and companionship. Ones where Tucker would kiss the lightish red clad soldier in the middle of their laughing and they'd continue giggling into each other's mouths until they slowly progressed to making out. Ones where the perverse jokes were accompanied by a lift of eyebrows and a promise of things to come later. Things or people. Whichever worked. 

Of course, this was just a daydream. A hopeful fantasy at best. Tucker was a lady's man and Donut was practically his gay wing man. You don't get together with your wing man and you don't get together with your friends. That's not how it worked. Even if Donut's magazines were saying how he could make a move now and there'd be a good chance of his desired outcome happening and he's blushing because Tucker is half reading over his shoulder and oh, wow, yeah, he could make a move right now. It wouldn't be very wise likely. 

"Hey, you alright, man? Your face is really pink." 

"It's not pink, it's lightish red," was Donut's automatic response. 

"Alright, I'll give you that one, but that's not answering my question." When he was met with silence, Tucker tilted Donut's head to face him properly. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to the other man's, moving the blond locks of hair out of the way as he did. "My hands are too cold to tell if you have a fever. I remember Church or maybe Flowers doing this once. Supposed to be more accurate anyway," Tucker's voice was lower now, not needing to speak loud so close to his friend. 

Donut's heart was pounding in his chest and his ears and his throat. He could feel Tucker's breath on his lips, can see the neutral brown of his eyes so _clearly_. He swallowed thickly. Tucker's hand, still on his cheek from when he guided his head to look at him, was cool against his rapidly heating skin. 

"I," the red team member stumbled on his words for a moment as Tucker finally let his hand drop, fingers brushing his jaw. "I'm fine," he managed to choke out despite the break in his voice. He was going to clear his throat and repeat himself in a deeper tone, to make up for it, but Tucker beat him to speaking. 

"Yeah, you are pretty fine, babe." 

And before Donut could even question the meaning of the words, Tucker's lips were on his, warm and smooth and not as chapped as they looked at all. He's embarrassed by the little gasping noises he makes as they kiss, pulling back just enough to separate their kiss before pulling back in for another one. They were breathless and panting, flush fully red by the time they pull back far enough to stare into each other's eyes again. Donut's crystal blue ones are glazed over with dampness. 

"So," Donut started, still trying to breathe between words, "what, tipped you off?" 

Tucker grins at him. "You don't exactly hide your affection, you know. I mean, come on. I can tell when you're taking a jab at me." He wiggled his eyebrows and Donut could have died right there. All this time thinking and daydreaming and he'd been ogling at the object of his desire. 

"That's what I get for spending so much time on the farm thinking," he mumbled, still pink in the face. "It became a habit." 

"Ha! Church owes me a five. I told him that you didn't repress anything there — not you specifically, I mean in general. There's just no way that you could avoid thinking with nothing to do there." 

The rest of their time together was spent with Donut telling Tucker about all of the things one could do on a farm besides sit around and daydream about boys and friendship and cute hairdos. Tucker's arm slipped between him and the couch and coiled around Donut's side as he spoke. 

Thinking on the farm really isn't so bad. Not if it leads to happy endings like this.

**Author's Note:**

> ~~I haven't written this enthusiastically in so long omg~~


End file.
